Se connecter– ARIANA –
~ By a little past noon, Facilities has finished replacing every piece of furniture in my office. Mark informs me the old set has been delivered to Tristan’s office and of the peculiar expression he wore on his face the whole time. That makes me smile. It is only a fleeting win for the moment but I’ll take it. It has been a while since he was put in his place. Rising from the couch in the lobby, I head into the office and my gaze drifts around the space for what feels like the first time. Floor-to-ceiling windows frame the Manhattan skyline behind the desk, stretching toward the adjoining side of the room where a pool table sits beneath the afternoon light. Bookshelves line one wall, broken only by leafy potted plants. A long black couch flanked by two armchairs completes the sitting area. Strange. I’ve been in this office more times than I can count, yet I’d never really looked at it. My gaze lingers on the couch, and despite it being new, the memory of what I’d walked into weeks ago returns. My chest tightens but I catch myself before I break down any further. I can’t afford that now, not when it has cost me once already. Taking a deep, shaky breath I proceed further into the office and sink into the chair. I may not know how to run a company, but I’ve been reading contracts, reports and financial statements in this office since I was fifteen. Surely that counts for something. It doesn’t. By the end of the day, I’m reminded of a truth I’ve always known —I am not cut out for this. And that brings forth the problem. I need a CEO. My stomach sinks at the thought. Which executive isn’t under Tristan’s influence? And even if I find one, the board seems ready to fight me every step of the way. Fucking great. When I leave the office, I’m worn out of my mind. In the parking lot, I lock eyes with Nathan, who only shakes his head at me, irritation plain on his face. The nerve of him. He actually thinks I’m being stubborn. Exhausting. Like I’m the problem. I drive almost on autopilot and don’t realize where I’ve ended up until the familiar estate comes into view. Dad’s place. I sigh. I don’t want to see him. Not after finding out he’d kept Nathan in the company after I fired him. The more I think about it, the more convinced I become that Robert Halberg is responsible for at least seventy percent of my current problems. Unfortunately, I’d promised I’d come and it is too late to pretend otherwise with the gates sliding open. The house glows warmly against the darkness, familiar in a way that suddenly makes me feel ten years old again. I barely make it through the foyer when a loud bark echoes through the house, followed by the frantic scramble of paws against polished marble. “Bailey.” The golden retriever comes hurtling around the corner, tail wagging so hard her entire body sways with it. She reaches me in seconds, nudging her head insistently against my hand before weaving excitedly around my legs. “Hi, you.” I laugh despite myself, crouching to scratch behind her ears. She melts into the affection with a happy little huff, and for the first time all day, the knot between my shoulders loosens. Sufficiently convinced I’d returned home, Bailey trots happily back to her cushioned corner, where a basket of well-loved toys waits for her. The aroma of roasted turkey and herbs hangs warmly through the house as I wander farther in. Dad looks up from the table he’s setting and notices me. Even in a fitted T-shirt and shorts, he still looks unfairly handsome for a man of fifty-six. Time has done little more than dust silver through his hair. “Sunshine, you made it.” The charming smile he flashes me only makes me frown harder. Just then, Tracy walks in from the kitchen carrying the turkey. My stepmother is elegant as always, dressed simply but immaculately, her honey-blonde hair falling neatly past her shoulders. “Hi, Tracy.” I smile and from the corner of my eye, catch Dad shaking his head as he takes a seat. He’s realized I am ignoring him. “Welcome, Ana.” Tracy sets the roasting pan down before pulling me into a quick hug. “Rough day?” “Very.” “Makes two of us.” She sighs. “I finally have two days off after working nearly twelve straight. One more shift and I would've gone bonkers.” I chuckle softly. Working in the ICU has never been easy for Tracy, and listening to her complain about it has become something of a tradition over the years. Every single time, she ends up admitting she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. Honestly, neither could I. She was born for it. Dinner passes with Tracy and me talking about work before drifting to the books from my reading list she'd finally gotten around to. Dad occasionally chimes in, but I make a point of directing every response back to Tracy. When we’re done eating, Tracy excuses herself to check on Bailey and put away the leftovers, leaving the dining room unusually quiet. Dad waits until her footsteps disappear before looking at me. “Shall we talk now, or are you still punishing me?” he asks. I shoot him a look. “I wish the punishment was doing anything. Unlike yours, which is after my sanity.” He chuckles. “I haven’t made you stand in the corner in over a decade, Sunshine.” I frown. He knows exactly what I’m talking about, but since he’s all ignorant about it, I decide to come clean. “Nathan is still at the company after I fired him because you retained him. Why?” He presses his lips together, looking like a man who’s rehearsed this conversation a hundred times already. “And don’t tell me it's because he’s useful. You don’t get to override my decision when it’s my company.” I add before he can speak. The silence between us is dented by Tracy’s laughter from somewhere in the living room, followed by Bailey’s excited barking. Dad exhales. “You came in pretty hot.” When I don’t speak, he leans back in his chair. “I knew you’d hate it. And believe me, if this were only about Nathan, I’d have walked him out myself after what he did to you.” My expression doesn’t soften. “Then why?” He lowers his eyes to the table for a long moment before meeting mine again. “Because of Vivian.” The words knock the fight clean out of me. Vivian Holloway. Nathan’s mother has been part of my life for as long as I can remember. She was my mother’s closest friend, the woman who never forgot a birthday and cried harder than I did the day Nathan proposed because she genuinely believed we’d become family. “She hoped you could keep him home. That didn’t work out, did it?” He sighs. “So... I hoped this could. For her sake.” I look away. Vivian had called numerous times after the engagement ended. All had gone unanswered. Not because I blamed her. I just couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in her voice. I swallow hard, the anger I’d marched in here with giving way to something complicated. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a slow breath. “You should’ve told me.” “Would it have changed anything?” I hesitate. “...No.” “That’s what I thought.” I look back at him, still unconvinced, still upset. “That doesn’t make what you did any less unfair.” “I know,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t trying to be fair. I was trying to stop one broken family from becoming two.” “It’s not fair that I have to deal with him and the company. Both are problems you created for me.” I throw him an accusing glare. “You’re handling it better than you think.” A smile tugs at his lips. “How was work today?” “I didn’t go to work.” I point at myself, then at him. “I went to your company.” He arches a brow. “Did you? A minute ago you were quite upset about me making decisions on your behalf.” I curse under my breath. Walked right into that one. “I don’t care about that anymore.” I lean back in my chair, exhausted. “I want out.” The words hang between us. I was nineteen when we first talked about the company. I didn’t want it then either. But he said I might feel differently at twenty-five. At twenty-five there was Nathan, and for four years he made the decision feel easy. Well, until he didn’t. Dad studies me for a long moment before pushing back his chair. “I’m sorry, Ana.” his voice is gentle but unwavering. “That’s one thing I can’t give you. You’ll have to figure it out by yourself.” He starts toward the kitchen. “Now…”He glances over his shoulder. “Ice cream?” I stare at him in disbelief. “The company is going to go to shambles because you’re being impossibly stubborn.” “That would mean one less thing for you to worry about.” He turns to face me fully, pride plain in his eyes. “Believe me, Sunshine, I think you’re doing great... even if everything feels like it’s falling apart.” “...What?” “Robert,” Tracy says as she walks past, sounding just as baffled as I feel. “No one says that.” Dad rubs the back of his neck thoughtfully as he follows her into the kitchen. “You’re right. That didn’t come out the way I intended.” I stare after him for a long moment before dropping my head into my hands, feeling even worse than I did earlier. Eventually, I drag myself upstairs to my old room, too mentally exhausted to think anymore. Sleep comes quickly, faster than Dad does with the dessert. The next morning, I stop by Blackwood first and Crawford reluctantly agrees to cut back my hours until things stabilize at Halberg, though the look he gives me suggests he doesn’t believe that will happen anytime soon. Neither do I. At the company, meeting after meeting follows until they begin to blur together. By the time another one finally ends, I no longer know whether I’m exhausted, hungry or simply losing my mind. I step into the corridor, hoping for five uninterrupted minutes to breathe. But I have no such luck because Nathan falls into step beside me. “You know,” he says conversationally, “for someone who insists she knows what she’s doing, you’re making this unnecessarily difficult.” I keep my eyes ahead. “You don’t have to prove anything, Ariana.” His voice softens into something almost patronizing. “You know I understand the company. You know I can help.” “I don’t need your help.” “Stop lying to yourself, Ana.” He scoffs. “You clearly do. And if you won’t take mine, I’d have expected him to be here.” My steps falter. Him. “Where is he?” he asks. I don’t answer. “Grey,” he clarifies, mockery curling around the name. “I thought you’d moved on with him.” He glances around theatrically. “Isn’t he supposed to be here for you?” I don’t know what he sees on my face, but his chuckle borders on a sneer. “He won’t come. Will he?” He shakes his head. “I knew it. That’s pathetic, Ariana.” Then he walks away, leaving me there with my heart burning and unbearable pressure building behind my eyes. I barely make it back to my office before the first tear slips free. Damn it. I blink furiously, but another follows anyway. The door slams shut behind me. I fling my bag onto the desk harder than I mean to. It bounces off the edge, spilling everything onto the floor. God, I hate him. I hate that he still knows exactly where it hurts. I crouch with a shaky sigh to gather the mess, shoving things back into my bag until my fingers close around a thick black card. I pause. Calvin’s business card. The one he’d left for me after the Lockwood cocktail party. I should’ve thrown it away. Instead, I find myself staring at his number until, somehow, my phone is in my hand and I’m dialing it. The first ring jolts me back to myself. What the hell am I doing? My thumb trembles over the screen, ready to end the call, but the line connects first. “Grey.”-I sigh and collapse back against my chair, watching as my system completely shuts down. I just finished filing the last report, and I wish I could float out of here and all the way to my apartment.My limbs are sore from moving around like I’ve been chasing a toddler, which would be technically correct considering how much I followed Calvin around today.Meetings. Paperwork. Emails. Meetings. More meetings.The funny part is, Jo did a lot more than I did, yet she looked forward to tomorrow as she clocked out.In my defense, I don’t remember the last time I was a subordinate, and neither does my nervous system.I force myself to sit up. Calvin left about an hour ago, and Jo, a few minutes so I’m the last to clock out. My phone starts to ring as I pack my things into my bag.Ivy.“Hey,” I place the phone against my ear as I stand and stretch. “What’s up?”“You sound wrung out.” she says.I round my desk, grabbing my bag as I do and head towards the elevators. “I am. This is my first d
-_________________Re: Margaret Should Not Be a Stand-Up Woman.I considered this, and you’re right. I’ll work on her again.All the revisions will be in your inbox Friday.–SUSAN_________________I’ll look forward to it.–ARIANA_________________I slide my phone into my pocket and start the espresso machine.Susan and I have spent the last forty-eight hours discussing her manuscript. I went through the revised draft over Saturday and Sunday, and I had very little to complain about.Susan is a good writer. She’d published one fairly successful book eight years ago before disappearing from the literary world altogether. So when I found her new manuscript in Blackwood’s submissions a few months ago, I reached out myself.We didn’t exactly hit it off.But the past two days have been different. We’re finally talking like two people who understand what the other wants.Which is a relief. A blessing, even.Maybe this will actually be a smooth journey from here.What worries me the most n
- What does one feel when they see their fiancé out on a date with the woman they cheated with? The same woman they swore meant nothing? I usually know how to handle my emotions under pressure. Even when they start slipping beyond my control, I can somehow find a way to pull them back. But now... I don’t know what to feel. Or maybe I know exactly what I’m feeling and simply don’t want to admit it. Nathan slows but his eyes stay on me, and I hate that I still know what that look means. Surprise. Regret. Guilt perhaps. Maybe I’m just seeing what I want to see. My fingers tighten around the stem of my wineglass before I look away and bring it to my lips. “Ariana...” Nathan says and pauses when he finally notices Calvin across from me. “Oh.” The annoyance packed into that single syllable makes me look back at him. How dare he act annoyed when he’s out here with her? The irony isn’t lost on me, I shouldn’t be feeling this way when I’m also here with someone else.
-Ariana--Before I walked into the restaurant, I’d paced outside my car for a whole minute hoping Mr. Tillman was present and the meeting was underway so I wouldn’t have to shamefully face Calvin even for a second after what happened earlier.But as it seems, today particularly, I have no such luck with the universe. Instead of Mr. Tillman and his assistant, I approach the table where Calvin and his entourage are seated and they all turn to me with looks that suggest I’ve interrupted something serious.My eyes dart over the three of them, then to the closed laptop in the middle of the table, before I look at Calvin directly.Maybe my suspicion of him is making me more observant than usual, but whatever they were discussing, the tension at the table is impossible to miss.My eyes narrow. “Am I interrupting something?”The blond man—Ambrose, as I’ve found—pushes his chair back as he stands, an easy smile crossing his face. “No, Ms. Halberg. We were just leaving.”No, they weren’t.The
“If it makes you feel any better, Mom, I called Father Duncan. He’s coming to the house tomorrow to bless it.”Ambrose had tried to calm his mother down just before we climbed into the car to leave Connecticut.Jon’s wedding was one of a kind. His bride and her family were even more so. They launched into spells and eerie chants right after the priest delivered his sermon, leaving the Clemons deeply scarred and already looking ahead to next fall. Which, in Clemons terms, means the beginning of the end, and eventually his sixth divorce.For all their grievances, they don’t realize this one seems different. Jon adores his witch bride like a hippie loves drugs, so next year might be very disappointing—and for entirely ironic reasons.By the time we’re out of Connecticut, the rain that kept us there for another two hours has eased into a drizzle, but Manhattan is sitting beneath a sky just as grey.We’re back in the city fifteen minutes past four, and the restaurant originally reserved fo
-Calvin - ~ “What is it?” The time is 6:48 a.m., and judging by the sleep-thick irritation in Ariana’s voice, she’s still very much in bed and has more or less forgotten she’d volunteered to become my assistant yesterday. Speaking of…yesterday had been unexpectedly entertaining. Easily the most amusing thing I’d witnessed all year. Second only to watching Holloway lose his mind after she kissed me. Whatever she must’ve found in the twenty hours between leaving the Rothwell luncheon and showing up at Halberg considerably deepened her distrust of me. I’m not bothered by it. I expected her to do her homework. I’d have been more concerned if she hadn’t, though. Becoming my assistant in her own company, however, wasn’t a conclusion I’d anticipated. Even so, it has her exactly where I want her—close enough to be in my orbit while believing I’m in hers. “Good morning, Princess.” “You know, my morning would start great if you didn’t call me by this time.” She sounds close to snapping.







